


Red Scarf

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [171]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Boys In Love, Cute, Don't copy to another site, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pining, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 07:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: “You kept the scarf,” Stephen murmured.





	Red Scarf

**Author's Note:**

> I had way too much fun with Missing You so here we are again.

   Tony was miserable.

   He kept his head down as he shouldered his way past the bodies clogging up the New York sidewalk. For once his short stature came in handy, allowing him to avoid being smacked by the obnoxious umbrellas swelling above him.

   The rain wasn’t so bad. Only ten minutes ago it had been pouring but the second it had lightened up, Tony had made a run for it, determined to get his coffee and more importantly…avoid Pepper’s wrath in the aftermath of the board of directors meeting.

   It was the cold that was doing him in. If he didn’t live in city of concrete and glass, Tony imagined the trees would be entirely red and orange by now, dotted with brown as they began to rot, heralding in the impending winter.

   Tony absently reached a hand up to adjust the scarf wrapped securely around his neck, tucking it into his jacket a bit more to keep the bitter wind from creeping in. Instead of letting that hand retreat into the safety and warmth of his pocket, Tony found himself brushing his fingers along the soft yarn, playing with a loose thread.

   It was habit of his and the one saving grace of the cool weather. The scarf, not his scarf, no, was finally appropriate to wear in public. Tony figured it was a lot less pathetic to cling to a scarf wrapped around your throat instead of hidden in your desk or sitting on your coffee table.

   It had been two months. Two painful months. Since Stephen. Since he was left with an empty apartment and one bright red scarf taunting him.

   When Tony had found it, draped over the chair near the entrance, he’d nearly thrown in out in a fit of anger and pain. Instead, he got drunk and wouldn’t let the offending material leave his side. Like he said, pathetic.

   The door gave a hearty little jingle when he finally slipped inside the tiny café, with a sigh of relief. He was damp but thankfully not soaking and the rich, intoxicating smell of coffee went a long way in warming his numbed limbs.

   Luckily it seemed to be fairly dead, only a few patrons dotting the tables and chairs and a line with only a four people. Tony had already decided he’ll get his drink and waste a half hour in the hopes Pepper will have calmed down a bit and finished damage control.

   Lining up behind a young woman, Tony slipping the scarf out of his jacket, letting its side dangle loosely and found himself playing with one of the frayed edges while he waited. He contemplated taking out his phone but decided against it, already expecting it to be blown up with angry text messages. No thank you.

   The door chimed behind him and Tony instinctively threw a glance over his shoulder and froze.

   Stephen Strange was trudging into the little shop, looking weary and exhausted. He hadn’t looked up yet, too busy tugging the gloves from his hands and it was obvious he had just gotten off work, evident from the scrubs beneath his coat and the slump in his shoulders.

   Tony swallowed thickly at the sight, the urge to run his hands through his disheveled hair and massage burdened shoulders hitting him like a fright train. The thought was immediately abandoned however, when Stephen looked up and met his eyes.

   They both seemed to still in that moment and Tony couldn’t look away and he couldn’t say anything despite the words that had circled endlessly in his head for a week in the aftermath. _I’m sorry, I should have tried harder, I should have listened to you, I was an ass, forgive me, I miss you, I love you._

   The door chimed yet again, and an irritable male voice came from behind Stephen, “excuse me, are you in line?”

   Without a word Stephen stepped forward to claim the space behind Tony. They hadn’t looked away from each other and Tony knew this had to be getting awkward, but he’d missed those blue eyes and wasn’t ready to turn away from them.

   Stephen for his part, was impassive, looking at him but betraying nothing.

   Until.

   His eyes flickered down, brows furrowed, “is that my scarf?”

   Tony would be mortified if he wasn’t so distracted by that familiar voice sounding like honey, “yes.”

   Blue eyes met his and Stephen finally cracked, swallowing audibly and nodding, like he’d come to a decision, “how have you been Tony?”

   “Fine. You?” He could not believe he was having small talk with the man he had wanted to marry one day. _Still_ wanted, that probably wouldn’t ever change.

   “Busy,” was the reply. “You might want to move up.”

   Tony blinked, turned forward again to realize the woman in front of him was nearly done and he was next. Alright, this was the very last thing he’d expected when he’d run to the café, but Tony was nothing if not opportunistic. They were cordial with one another, Tony missed him, and saw no reason not to go ahead and finally say all things he’d been dying to these past two months.

   He ordered quickly and stepped aside, relieved when Stephen’s order was as short as always and they ended up next to each other again. Stephen wasn’t looking at him but that was fine, Tony nudged him gently, was encouraged when the other man didn’t pull away.

   “Have anywhere you need to be?”

   Stephen’s eyes had always been piercing, seeing so much more then a person wanted to share and for maybe the first time, Tony found himself incredibly grateful for that ability, certain his intentions were being read clearly.

   Slowly, Stephen shook his head.

   Tony offered a small smile, snagged his coffee and drifted over to a little table with two chairs, next to the window. He didn’t stare, but he kept an eye out as Stephen claimed his own and made his way over much more leisurely.

   Once Stephen had sat Tony felt the anxiety creeping up, knowing he had one chance at this and no idea where to start.

   “You kept the scarf,” Stephen murmured.

   Oh. Right.

   “Did you want it back?”

   Stephen shook his head, “no. It looks good on you.” Blue eyes flickered away, sipped their coffee.

   Fucking hell Tony missed this man.

   “I’m sorry.”

   Stephen raised an eyebrow, “that’s a first.”

   Tony barely contained a grimace, “I was an asshole.”

   “You were,” Stephen sipped again, then sighed. “But so was I.”

   That earned a tentative smile, “we’ve always been incredibly good at that.”

   “A hard-won skill.”

   There was a lull and Tony tried to think of what to say, of what might fix things the way he wanted. The pain from their separation still ached and the ring hiding in his dresser was a brutal reminder every morning. He thought of the news articles that had speculated on a lack of sightings with his ‘friend’ and how quickly he’d had to crush those blossoming rumors because Stephen deserved better. He wanted to give him better this time and Tony knew he could.

   “What are we doing Tony?”

   That knocked him from his head and Tony almost started laughing because Stephen had always been blunt and hated when he didn’t know what was going on and of course he’d just cut straight to it so Tony might as well too.

   “I miss you.”

   He could hear Stephen’s breath catching, the mild surprise in his eyes, which hurt, but was quickly followed up with hope.

   “I’ve missed you too.”

   Tony nodded, “good. That’s good.”

   Stephen chuckled lightly, “good?”

   “Very good.”

   “And this?” Stephen waved a hand between them. “What are we doing with this?”

   “We’re having coffee and we’re talking and I’m hoping we can do this again tomorrow or have dinner or whatever you want,” Tony struggled to hold his gaze as he said the words.

   Stephen considered him for a long moment, sipped his coffee, then offered a slow smile, “I think I’m hoping that too.”


End file.
